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Drunken/Dancing Dog
GM Magnimar - Ordellia District The Drunken Dog is not exactly the finest tavern in Magnimar. While the Ordellia district is more known for its counterculture stylings and self-styled anti-establishment dissenters than food and drink, any of you could have picked out a half-dozen far nicer establishments from the moment you crossed the Yondabakari river without much effort. But the Dog is small, tucked away in an easily-missable side street, the sort of place even most of the locals might never have heard of. In that, it is a perfect incognito spot to rendezvous with your newest client. It is sundown, and the skies over the Varisian Gulf are reddening. There's no real crowd to speak of in The Drunken Dog, not that this surprises you- the burly barkeep almost seems surprised to see you come in. "If you're here to see Miss Anikee," he grumbles, "she's got the table over there." He points toward a large, round table near the windows, where a bespectacled woman sits, busily pawing through a small stack of papers. Jeminda Anikee is about thirty years old, give or take a few, with dull brown hair tied back in a sloppy bun, and a plain, if well-tailored, dress. She is an attractive woman, if a bit mousy. Her only notable adornment is a simple silver holy symbol of Abadar hanging around her neck. She rises to meet you as you approach, introducing herself with a hint of a stutter and shaking your hand. Hers are somewhat clammy, and she wipes them on her dress before retaking her seat. "H-hello," she says. "Jeminda Anikee. I work for the city. Pleased to meet you." She has summoned five of you here today- each of you having gotten word of this mission through your own methods and contacts. She glances over each of you appraisingly, and while she wears a calm smile, she is clearly anxious. Feel free to introduce yourselves to Jeminda. When you are done, she will proceed immediately into the debriefing for your mission. "As you may have heard, I am a clerk- not a high-ranking one, of course, just a humble bookkeeper, you see- in the tax office here in Magnimar. I recently ran into a bit of a pickle- er, ah, a problem, yes? I was doing a routine audit when I realized that there had been a little... cock-up, if you gather, regarding the collection of taxes in a tiny little holding called Ravenmoor, way up the Lampblack River north of Galduria. It seems that somebody- not me, of course, that's not precisely my job- had been neglecting to double-check Ravenmoor's back taxes for the last... er, several years." She pauses to breathe, glancing around nervously as if embarassed to say it. "A little clerical error, you see. Ravenmoor's taxes owed have not been collected in nearly a decade. I can understand how it was missed for so long- it's such a tiny community that they hardly owe much, but after so many years, it turns out that they owe the city of Magnimar some 500 gold in back taxes. I can't imagine this was due to some malicious neglect on Ravenmoor's part- more likely it's because, thanks to this little oversight, we haven't sent anyone out there to collect anything from them for so long that they simply forgot they owed anything at all. But you can see how this could be a problem, yes? 500 gold missing from Magnimar's coffers is no small matter. I could... well, I worried there might be a chance I could lose my job if the higher-ups caught wind of this and decided that I was to blame, so I chose to send a tax collector out that way to see about retrieving the money we're owed before reporting the whole farce." "I needed to keep the whole thing on the down-low, as they say, so I turned to one person in particular I could trust implicitly to do the job: Elias Kyle. He's my brother-in-law, you see, so I knew I could count on him. We've been close ever since my sister Rumelda- his wife- passed on a few years back. We've taken care of one another, because really, neither of us really has anybody else to count on..." Her voice lowers almost to a whisper, and you detect a bit of a stammer in her words. "I'm sorry, I digress. Elias only recently started working for the city- he'd gotten himself cleaned up, kicked his drinking habit, was all worked up and ready to accomplish something great other than getting into bar brawls, so it seemed like this kind of mission would be a perfect fit for him. He was enthusiastic about the idea, so we agreed to send him off to Ravenmoor to collect the 500 GP and resolve the matter before any real stink could come of it." "A week after he set out, I got a letter from him- sent from Galduria. He said he was making good progress, would hit Ravenmoor in a couple of days and be back in Magnimar in a week and a half. But... it's been weeks, and no word back from him. Elias has gone missing." She unfolds a small sheet of parchment and slides it to the center of the table so that everyone can see it. - - - - Elias' Letter:"Hey Jem! In Galduria! Making damn good time, weather's on my side. Be in Ravenmoor day after tomorrow if I'm lucky! Weather holds true I'll be back in Magnimar in a week and a half! Galduria's a drag but Ember Lake sure is pretty! Mel woulda loved this place. You should come out here sometime and see it. Anyway, I had to show some wannabe tough guy the hard side of my shiny new mace! Wotta laugh! Tell you more when I get home, many loves XOXO Eli"- - - -''' "So... what I'd ask of you here is twofold: retrieve the missing taxes from Ravenmoor, and find out what happened to my brother-in-law. Please, move as quickly as you can, and take care of yourselves- Elias was no professional fighter, but he could hold his own. If some kind of foul play has occurred- Gods, I hope that's not the case- then this Ravenmoor could be a lot more dangerous than any of us imagined. Elias would have left an impression wherever he went, I'm sure- he's not much of a looker, kind of a squat, lumpy-faced fellow- face like a pug dog, my sister always said- 'cugly,' I think that was her word- with bright red hair and patchy scruff on his face. He's been in a lot of fights, so he's got a bit of a knob for a nose. Elias's safety is a huge priority, but at the end of the day... the collection of those back taxes is still your official primary objective, so to speak..." "So... terribly sorry to ask this of all of you, but... I'm sure you can see why I had to call your lot in. I can't have word of this getting back to my superiors before we know what happened out there. My career is on the line here- I can promise you 200 GP in payment right now to recover the back taxes, but if you're able to figure out what happened to poor Elias... well, I can't put an exact number on it until I know whether or not I'll be keeping my job, but I can promise you that I can make it worth your while." "Any questions?" she asks, twiddling her fingers. Her eyes bounce back and forth amongst you anxiously, as if she expects you to toss her into the bay for daring to hire you. Dalton the Thirsty Dalton pulls up a chair next to the table where Amikee sits. His trepidation remains, but her mousy nervousness is endearing to him. He feels a sudden protectiveness for this sheltered tax clerk, and recognizes her dedication to duty. He smiles reassuringly. "I speak not for the others, but know this; Elias will be found. From his letter, it seems that he has already faced violence and come out the other side unharmed," his smile fades, "but the possibility exists that someone who knew this "wannabe tough guy" wanted revenge." the monk brings his fist down onto the table firmly. "Whatever is at stake here, I wish to help. I have never been to Ravenmoor...the experience should be educational." Dramin Jodare Dramin continues to stand instead of taking a seat, there is a possibility of anxiousness but at the same time the amount of disinterest he shows in her plight is palpable; with that he doesn't pay too much attention to her emotional response and doesn't notice something may be amiss. A moment later he speaks to the woman while eyeing the rest of the group up and down. He smiles wryly and attempts to feign interest. "So this Ravenmoor, what would have been the route your brother in law took? He looks upon Dalton with keen interest. "As the monk has a point here, he may have been sought out by someone else for his... mace usage. With that in mind, perhaps there may be dangerous encampments on the way that could have proved fatal." His words come out flat and without much empathy. "Despite anything, I'm heading up there so I will help you simply due to efficiency." Sebastian Bacarov Sebastian listens to the monk and the fighter. He'd spent some time researching them, but this first interaction is important. His gaze takes in the tax clerk as well. There is more to the mission than gold...well a lot of gold. And what else besides money can cause more trouble in my line of work than love? Bacarov shares a look with Marsh and poses the question. "Being that you are close with Mr Kyle, what sort of trouble might have followed him out of the city? I ask not from the point of view of my office, but with the point of view of a man approaching a dark horizon, curious as to what the dawn's light will reveal." Dramin Jodare Dramin glances quickly at Barcarov and Marsh, as they clearly have some past history together, and decides to keep track of the two of them. If there is going to be trouble, they have the upper hand in any chaos thats going to be caused in a melee. The fighter decides that he must make a trust-call regarding the woman providing the information the only way he knows how, through comparing information that is willing to be shared. He tries to recall whatever he can about potential noteworthy sites, caverns, clearings or terrain formations that could be used as a bandit hideaway near Galduria before she can form a response to his query and taint his train of thought. I may not know if she's holding back on us, but at the very least it may set her up to fall if she is. GM Jeminda seems heartened by Dalton's smile and reassuring words, and blushes slightly. However, Dramin's apathy seems to bother her. "You're allowed to sit, you know," she says quietly between questions. "...I mean, unless you're more comfortable standing, or... uh... Hey, I ordered prawns. Anybody like prawns? They have good prawns here..." She takes a long swig of her wine glass and averts her eyes, choosing instead to focus on Sebastian's question. "If you had asked me that a few years back, I would have had an answer for you. But considering it's been ages since Elias really got into it with anybody, I can't think of anyone who might have wished him harm. He might have had an unpaid bar tab or two left open, come to think of it... but I thought I paid all of those off for him..." Warshawski The note on my desk said there was a new job for me. Technically it was off the books and the money'd go straight into my pocket. That suited me just fine. I didn't have any open cases so I was just spinning the old wagon wheels until a new tax dodger attracted the boss's attention. Only an idiot walks into a room with a blindfold on, though. I made sure to do my homework. I knew Jeminda Anikee just from passing her in the corridors at headquarters. I could pick her out of a crowd but that's all I knew. If she wanted me for a hush job I needed to know more. More than one investigator found their head off their shoulders and onto the floor thanks to the words "keep this job quiet". Once I'd asked around on both sides of the veil I headed for the Drunken Dog. I wasn't on time but Parker always taught me that only a sucker showed up on time. Either you get their early to scope the place out or you get their late when the trap springer's sloppy from impatience. I spotted Anikee straight off. Back in the corner, hoping for privacy. That set off warning bells for me. People who picked the darkest corner of the bar wanted secrets kept but didn't know how to keep them. The best secrets are dealt right out in the open. I took my time approaching the table. There was a nice little crowd gathered, destroying any chance of making this a clandestine meeting. I recognized Bacarov and his sidekick, Marsh. The guy with the painted face and the tough with the light hair were new to me. I grabbed a chair, spun it around and plopped up onto it. The weight of my front pressed against the ugly, wooden back of the chair. "Bacarov. Marsh." I nodded to both of them. Barcarov didn't have a spirit hovering around him. Means he probably wasn't on the job yet. The souls of the dead like to stick close to the detective assigned to their case and keep tabs on the work in progress. I turned my full attention to Anikee. My eyes narrowed as I considered the little mouse of an accountant and I waited for her to continue with her words. A wise woman knows the best way to look foolish is to open her trap. There was something Anikee wasn't telling this little gathering. Something important. I wouldn't sweat her right in front of the others. I owed her that much since the same agency put coin in our purses. But before I left the City of Monuments this little bird would sing. I promised myself. Sebastian Bacarov Bacarov grins at Dramin's bravado but masks the gesture by smiling a greeting Warshawski's way. Then he thinks on the clerk's response. Love then...maybe duty to her sister. He runs a finger down his nose with one hand while pulling his rosewood pipe from his pocket, a signal to Marsh that the girl's story on Elias checks out. "Prawns sound good, Ms Anikee." Bacarov answers and fishes out his tobacco pouch. The smell of cherry oak tobacco wafts from it. He fills the bowl and speaks as though he's making a list. "Nothing from behind but from ahead...perhaps highwaymen...or perhaps someone wanting to cover over the reason for Elias' own investigation." He lights the pipe and soothes over the last part. "Rest assured, Ms Anikee, if your Elias is half as resourceful as rumor marks him to be, then he may be well. We'll look into his condition with as much weight as this tax revenue." He puffs away, curious to her reaction on calling him "your Elias". He meets Warshawski's eyes and wonders if her ethereal friends are flitting about this evening. Tell me, lady...tell me Elias' spectre isn't floating over my shoulder. '' Dramin Jadore Dramin looks at the new arrival who is looking around. ''This must be the medium. He looks at her quickly then proceeds to look over her shoulder and nods a little knowingly, his eyes glowing with the need for discussion. He turns back to Ms. Anikee and the town guard and decides it may be time to see what might happen if he tried to... use a little tact for once. "Ms. Anikee, I apologize for earlier, I am a little bit shaken with recent work and I truly just want to get on the job as quickly as possible for all of our sakes. I only act so blunt because I know how painful things may be to talk about. I myself know all about bottling it up inside. So please, if there is anything else you know about your lost family, tell us. We are here to help after all and it benefits no one to keep secrets." He looks at Bacarov. "We are just here to help and I stand beside him. I take my work seriously, no matter the plight." GM Jeminda barely seems to notice Sebastian's mention of "her Elias," only momentarily cocking an eyebrow and then going back to poking at her prawns. As Dramin makes an effort to lower her guard, she sighs and slumps in her seat a bit. "There's a chance... a small chance, and one I don't particularly want to consider... that Elias might have, uh... fallen off the wagon, so to speak... In regards to his drinking, I mean. He'd been doing so well these last few months, but... Well, I suppose you should know that he has entertained the idea of moving to Riddleport in the past, you know, once he got some money together. But- but he wouldn't do that. Not now. Not when he has me relying on him like this..." She sinks in her chair and stares at her plate.' "I refuse to believe that he could've taken the money and run. Still... I can't very well send you out there without full disclosure..."'' Dalton the Thirsty Dalton looks profoundly uncomfortable. "Keep faith in Elias. We will find him, and it will have nothing to do with his drink." he doesn't sound particularly convinced himself. Vincent Marsh '"Heh, you sent an alcoholic by himself, to pick up a half a grand ' of gold, you needed to pay off his tabs---plural--- for him before, and he had a dream of gettin a lump a dough skippin town? Your relationship with the guy is yer own gig, but are ya sure you've given it to us straight? I mean sisters often share a lot of stuff between them. If there's anything else at all, now's the time to spill it. That last little bit ya gave up was important, but I guessed it."' Marsh dips a prawn and scarfs it down. "Mmmmmmm now that's delicious. Great marinara sauce ''' <<>> I like it when they get the tangy flavor of the vinegar balanced with the acid of lemon juice just right, ya know?"' He chucks the tail into the discard pile. '"So, Ah, say we dicover lover boy skipped off with the loot or ' opened the world's biggest bar tab or somethin. I'm guessin we turn em over to Warshawski an call it good? Or?"' Warshawski ''I let my eyes linger for a moment on the tough and his nobleman friend. The angry shades around them spoke '' volumes even if the evidence didn't. As I had so often done in the past, I drew a scrap of parchment and some thin charcoal from my pocket and quickly wrote down descriptions of the dead. Like marble exposed to time and weather, souls usually lost their features but a few remained. ' Enough to give some clues.' A good clue could solve any case. ''I slid the parchment over to Bacarov and nodded towards the hitman and his new patron. Murder was his beat. Let him deal with it. I focused my attention back on the job just in time to hear Marsh's witticisms.' "Don't be a goblin's a#*%%~~~." I smacked Marsh in the back of the head for good measure. "And don't talk about things you don't understand." I couldn't help it. Seeing those two sisters there, one on this '' side of the veil and one on the other, both worried for the same man. I've always been a bit of a soft touch, I guess.'' Another scratch of parchment and I could write down an address. This one I gave to Jeminda. "Go here." 'I tried to sound kind but I was about as good as being gentle and soft as I was at breathing water. ''"Talk to Sister Kaye. Tell her about your sister. She'll help you. Don't worry about your brother-in-law. We'll take care of things and contact you when we get back."' Dramin Jodare Dramin stared, amused and surprised at the words that came out of his mouth and their effects on the woman. He would never have managed such a feat without his little gift, truth be told. Upon hearing the profanities from the medium however, he turned his gaze over to Marsh and smirked. ''Well as long as he is pushing to leave, at least I don't have to play the badguy. I suppose I can entertain a facade for the time being. '' Time to hedge my bets and goad the big man.' "Look here Marsh, if you don't care for the case and would like to drop out, I'm sure we would be happy to take the slack from you, and whatever comes with it." He grabbed the plate of prawns to emphasize his point, taking a few and placing them on his own plate with a little weight to the motion. Vincent Marsh "I didn't say nothin about not takin the case, but I don't need to go around givin false promises either. Just because the lot of you hadn't figured out she was holdin back doesn't mean I had to remain ignorant. If she wants em back, then the best bet is to give all the details she's got." "For instance . . . Let's say he stayed on the wagon right?. You still got a guy with a shinny new mace, lookin like the FNG who isn't a professional fighter pickin up a load of coins---by himself mind you---and everyone in town would likely know it. Tell me that doesn't scream rob me." Warshawski I growled in anger then counted to five. I didn't have time to count to ten before Marsh opened his fat mouth and let more brown slip out. "Shut your yap, Marsh." I leaned over and whispered to the thug. I didn't care who I had to sprawl over to do it. '"The man's sister-in-law AND his dead wife are both here and NEITHER needs to hear this. Understand?"' I dumped my backside back into my chair and looked to the mousy looking client. "Go, please." I tried my best for a reassuring smile. "We've got this." Dalton the Thirsty Dalton raises an eyebrow, glancing over at Warshawski without turning his head. Dead wife? he thought to himself. She's a soul-seer? At least she's demonstrating that she still has a heart, despite her connection with death. I wonder if... His eyes flicker forward again as he wills his mind to stillness once more. That ''isn't important right now. Whatever her talents, she wishes to help in this adventure. She will be an interesting ally. The gruff one, Marsh, speaks good sense, albeit brusquely. Sensei Torben was like that. I can respect it. He glances at the ceiling, feigning interest in the '' patterns in the wood to avoid glancing at Dramin as his mind touched on him. He's been trying to discipline his eyes to not give his thoughts away. The fire of confidence burns brightly in that one. Let us see ''if he is a hero, or merely a blowhard masking his fear through bravado. At least he knows when kind words are needed. It is good to see evidence of consciences in my traveling companions...'' When the tax clerk rises from her seat, Dalton will as well, inclining his head toward her respectfully. "See you again soon, with good news," he says to her, with a reassuring smile. Vincent Marsh "Heh, if this was a simple money crime then I'd say you had the floor Warshawski, but that's why you work tax crimes isn't it? Can't stomach havin to ask the real questions while you sit there makin your charcoal doodles tryin your best to be reassuring, but just comin off awkward. Facts is facts, you can't change em, you don't have to like em, but they're important."' '''"So, if he was to try and skip town he'd need help right? So it '''might be useful to know if he had any other family or friends in town, even if they were astranged. Or hey, how about you might find out where he lived so you might check the place for clues, like did he clean out the place or does it look like he planned to come back. Get a list of places he liked to drink or visit after he got dried up, heck check in on his barber. Find out what he bought for his trip, was he askin about ships to Riddleport, etc. Unless of course the spirits can tell you all that, otherwise us mere mortals are going to have to do an ol'fashioned investigation."' "So please Warshawski, unless you already got all those answers . . . We got this." GM At the Dancing Dog... Jeminda frowns at Marsh's not-so-subtle implication of her having some sort of tryst with Elias. "Oh, come on. What do you take me for? He married my sister, for goodness' sake! He's family, so far as I'm concerned, nothing more. And he's not an alcoholic- not anymore, I mean- I hope, anyway- and besides, tax collectors travel alone all the time... and..." 'From the way her face is reddening, Marsh has clearly gotten under her skin, and the theory she had no desire to entertain before is now quickly shoving all others aside in her mind. Luckily, Warshawski manages to defuse the situation. Startled by the thought that Rumelda could be there with her, she glances about with widened eyes before remembering that, as a medium, Warshawski is likely the only person who could see such a thing. She accepts your note and advice to seek out Sister Kaye with an understanding nod, and whispers: '"Thank you." From that point on, even Marsh's more cynical view of Elias' probably whereabouts fails to worry her. "Mr. Marsh," she replies calmly to the man's rebuttal of Warshawski, "if you wish to check his home, then I can certainly let you in - I rented out my spare room to him after Rumelda passed, you see. I've already checked his belongings for any hints as to what might have happened to him, but I'm sure a more practiced investigator could do a better, more thorough job. If you're looking into friends or family... don't bother. Elias and I rely on one another because we're all we have left. No family, no friends aside from casual associates, and even then I doubt Elias had many of those. When he stopped drinking, he lost the few he hadn't already driven away already. But, again, feel free to double-check."' "It seems you lot have all this well in hand," Jeminda says finally, returning Dalton's smile and reaching across the table to shake each of your hands again. '''"Once you depart Magnimar, you'll be taking the Yondabakari river up to Galduria, I imagine? It's a safe route, the one I understand Elias himself took. From there, you'll probably have to make the rest of the trek on foot or horseback - the Lampblack Trail, if I recall - up to Ravenmoor. Hopefully, that's as far as you'll need to go, but I'll leave all that up to you. There's not a great deal of information available on Ravenmoor itself, I'm afraid - all I've gathered is that it used to have quite a few rather fine vineyards up that way in the past, but several generations ago, some rather nasty blight blew in and nearly killed the town. It seems to have recovered somehow, but the vineyards remained dead and they never really did reclaim that prestige - seems mostly they get by on pig farming and more standard crops these days. Population's fewer than 200 as of the last census, and the mayor is a fellow named... Kriegler, I believe? When you get to Ravenmoor, I'd seek him out. He'll have been the one to deal with Elias when he arrived, I'd imagine."' She rises from her seat and bows slightly. '''"Thank you all for this. I wish I had more to pay you, but... well, I only have so much in my savings account, you see. Again, I'll have quite a bit more to give '''you by the time you return, I hope. I'm entrusting not just Elias' fate, but my own career, to you all. Please do your best to preserve them both."' '''She starts to go, but stops to grab one, two, three prawns from the plate, carrying them awkwardly in her hands as she moves to depart the Drunken Dog. Dalton the Thirsty Dalton thoughtfully bites down on a prawn himself as he watches her go. He glances over at Dramin, then the others, then swallows. "Is there passage we can book on the Yondabakari river, or are we walking to Galduria? I'm new to this area, so I don't know how travel is arranged in these lands."' Dramin Jodare Dramin tunes out the monk for a short second and focuses, taking note of the history of this small place and the way it was ruined by blight. He begins to formulate a theory on what disease or plague could have crushed the industry. He turns back, thoughts storming in his head and tries to assist the monk. "How to get there... To me I would prefer the fastest route, whether or not it is expensive is inconsequential to me. This Ravenmoor is getting much more interesting by the minute." The glee in his eyes for the dull town isn't human and his focus isn't on the route as much as the destination. Though he thinks he remembers enough to assist and get the best way there. He also decides to share the information regarding potential bandits on the road there and uses it as a way to push the faster boat idea. Warshawski I kept my temper until Jeminda left. I spotted her grabbing those prawns. She couldn't afford '' to pay the lot of us for this job. I'd have to make sure my share slipped back into her pocket somehow. I'm not going to beggar the poor woman.'' "You are an idiot, Marsh." Now that the client was gone, I felt free to grab a prawn and pop it into my mouth. Not bad but I prefer my shellfish dipped in tongue-searing spices. ''"Nothing you said actually helps us. If you really wanted to find out if he was genuinely out on the job we'd need to track down the courier the message came from and follow that chain. See where it came from. Ransacking the man's life and, by extension, our client's life is an idiot's waste of time." Still, I was proud of Jeminda for standing up to the pig. Good for her. When this whole mess was over, I'd buy her a pint. I sat back and grabbed another prawn and something to drink. I '' wouldn't be much help planning the route. My business didn't take me outside the city that often. Sebastian Bacarov'' Cripes, it's Sandima's Night Club all over again. ''Bacarov sighs, glad for the monk's effort but concerned it won't be enough to stop Marsh from getting his dander up. He puffs his pipe, eyes flicking down to view Warshawski's note. ''Hitman'll have to wait... But his investigative mind is already turning. Bacarov slips a glance in the direction of the alleged ne'erdowell. Warshawski's spectres couldn't sit in for for a barrister, but they could manage a clue or two. He let his mind pour over his memories like well-known scrolls, cataloged in such a way that only Bacarov knew the ups and downs of the system. But outwardly, he leans forward and whispers to Marsh, "Ní Tá súil tráchtearra forbidden, deartháir. Tá iarr duine éigin tá sé is fearr chun ligean chun é. Teaghais i dathanna dorchadas ar fud an domhain i claonadh." Halfling: "Hope is not a forbidden commodity, brother. Sometime's it's best to allow for it. Dwelling in our kind of darkness, colors the world in our bias." He turns to Warshawski and smiles. "Glad we could pick up where we left off, but I'm with our disciplined ally here. Cooler heads for such an undertaking would be better. Vinnie has his ways of getting to the truth, you have yours." Bacarov pinches the stem of his pipe in his teeth and scoots some of the dipping sauce over and gathers a few prawns. "Besides, I'm sure there's a time when you've said the right thing in the wrong place. 9 hells, I've mistakenly told a woman her husband had been killed only to have him walk in the door behind me." He shrugs, not liking the memory of his first year year as an inspector. "Right message, wrong flat." "I'm thinking that this Elias bit off more than he could chew. ''' Marsh here might have the right of it, walking into a town down on its luck and trying to leave with the coffers and the linens..." He takes a bite of prawn, chews and swallows then continues. "...I'd say we have 200 suspects in Ravenmoor that need questioning regarding the 500 reasons they had to put a hurt on Elias."' '"My vote is to go the same way Elias went, follow his backtrail. Maybe he opened his mouth along the way and his mission was compromised. Judging by his note, he didn't have a problem bragging a smidge. Passage up the river is only 5 gold."' Bacarov glances Marsh's way and then to Warshawski then to the others. '"My other thought, even if it's overkill, is that a look-see at Elias' flat might not be out of order. Marsh and I could handle it, if no one else is interested. 500 gold is a lot. If someone else had the interest, they could have been following him from Magnimar."' He looks to the others to gauge their response. Dramin Jodare '"You heard the lady, the flat has already been looked at. I understand you're professionals but we need to head out as soon as possible. The trail gets colder by the day and the more time we waste acting like vultures", ' Dramin looks at Marsh, his gaze neutral and non judgemental, '"the more likely he is either dead, dying or in the middle of something just as unpleasant."' Dramin crosses his arms and leans up against the wall's corner eyeing the rest of the bar; or more specifically the door. He quietly moves his hands and let's off a quick Detect Magic in the area, part habit, part boredom. He doesn't know what he's looking for in particular. '"Let me know when your conscience speaks up."' His self righteous words are very flimsy, he knows it and he doesn't care who notices or doesn't as he pulls out his book and starts to read. Warshawski ''I felt my jaw clenching at Bacarov's words. I took a breath, counted to ten in three different languages, then released it. "You're right. We can't discount old gambling debts or an old friend with them." I washed down the prawns and then stood up. I wished I had some better ale to do the job right. "And you're right." 'I motioned towards the fair-haired man. Jodare. ''"We need to pick up the trail as soon as possible. But starting on the journey midday's not smart. We want an early jump to have as much travel time as possible."' '''''I closed my eyes and listened to the whispers of the spirits. Souls far older and more experienced than mine. I nodded my head in time to the music of their mutterings, piecing together the advice I needed until I knew what to say next.' '''"So, here's the plan." I pointed at Bacarov. "You and I will go to his Elias's room and investigate. That's our job, after all. Marsh, take the tattooed man here and check the usual dives and haunts. Ask around. If Elias owed money, if he planned on stealing money, if someone wanted to steal from him, there's word of it out there. Five hundred gold not as much as it seems. It would be a tempting target but not for the higher class of criminal. The sorts that would ''' be interested in it aren't known for keeping their yaps shut. Jodare, go and book us passage for tomorrow. If you can, find the boat that took Elias. If we can spend our time traveling questioning the people on that boat we'll be killing two phoenixes with one crossbow bolt."' ''I opened my eyes and looked around the room. All men except for me. Figures. "Any questions?" Dalton the Thirsty "With respect to you, Mr. Bacarov, I feel I must agree with Dramin. I have an uneasy feeling about this town. I wish to get to the bottom of why that is, as soon as possible." Dalton looks around. "I'll...go check the price of a boat trip upriver." Sebastian Bacarov "Dividing up the toils will save time. We'll get the early start and make up some time if the wind's on our side." Bacarov responds. "If we're happy about who does what, let's get moving. Shall we meet at the '''tavern near Red Kestrel Imports? East side, I don't rascal the name but there's a giant carp all painted red for a sign. Can't miss it."' ''If all is well with the plan, and after sharing a word with Marsh about not cracking skills if it's not necessary, Bacarov pulls his own notebook and scribbles down a note. Once done, he addresses it to Aureleum in the legate office. Sebastian will find a runner to deliver the message, offering the requisite delivery cost plus 2 silver. V I've been gr'a'ced with the '''l'oquacious p'r'esence of '''a new proprietor out of Marb'l'''es. He's a '''d' is'h'''y sort, but '''in'jects a rare bouquet to en'g'''ender affable nuances. ''I'm noticing the weight he draws, intentional it seems. Better see who might be writing bad reviews. See you at dinner, S The bolded letters will call out the name Al Raldhing. The rest is cryptic reference to his association with a professional criminal. The last, Bacarov had never kept a dinner date with her. It's reference to the possibility of a case. That out of the way, he holds the door pen for Warshawski and they make their exit. Dramin JodareCategory:Gameplay Thread Dramin notices the tattooed man deciding he wishes to check on the harbour. There's a slight twinge of actual empathy for a second for the man, and its just enough to push Dramin. "Hey you. He says pointing at the monk, "I'll come with you. Not to discredit you, but if you're new here you never know what might occur. I would hate to see you lost in this cesspool personally." Dramin was sure the monk could see through his demeanor and to his own personal agenda but again, he didn't mind. It saved him the trouble of having to explain himself. "If you don't mind, give me a minute here, I feel something may be relevant. If you wish to go on ahead I understand." Dramin walks up slowly to the man with the magical rapier, unsure as to why. Strange to see someone with gear like that in a place like this, well discounting current company of course. Lets see if he could potentially be a threat, after I pin down the weapon lets see if hes here out of sheer coincidence. Dalton the Thirsty Dalton waits patiently for Dramin to finish. Dramin Jodare Dramin cocks his head to the monk and back to the man, circling back to Dalton. In reality hes using it as a ruse to get a different angle on the man's face and wonders if he recognizes him. He feels he might but is unsure as to whether or not he's here for the atmosphere or to potentially keep an eye on the group. ''I must be getting paranoid like Giacomo. GM At The Dancing Dog & Later, near the docks Dramin carefully observes the well-dressed man's rapier and attempts to discern the magical signature upon it as Dalton watches. The well-dressed man completely fails to notice this or Dramin, for that matter, and continues on his way- but not before Dramin is able to identify that the rapier bears an enchantment that enhances its already-formidable ability to strike an opponent's vital areas. It's a +1 keen rapier, in case you're wondering. You recognize the man as a local restaurateur, Alberto Rahlding, who has a popular up-and-coming eatery in the upscale Marble District. As Rahlding departs, you decide to go ahead and take your leave. ''''